


Hear Me Roar

by The_Northern_Wolf



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Family Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, Homophobia, Nightmares, Physical Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sansa/Margaery is endgame
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-11-09 03:57:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17994392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Northern_Wolf/pseuds/The_Northern_Wolf
Summary: Margaery is having dreams about her best friend but her boyfriend is a little less than understanding.HEAVY ANGST





	1. Unbowed Unbent Unbroken

_Margaery gasped._

_A curtain of fire surrounded her, but it was a comfortable sort of flame. It didn't burn but made her chest ache and her breath hitch._

_"Sansa," She whimpered, looking into the Stark's eyes. They shone like flakes of sky, bright and vibrant. But they were caring, loving. But her_  hands.  _Sansa's hands were moving up her sides, trailing along her skin and making her shiver and squirm._

_Sansa started to trail kisses down the Tyrell's neck to her collarbone where Margaery could feel her smirk which only made her feel even more on edge. "Gods.." Margaery gasped, pressing her thighs together to alleviate the building ache. "Please!"_

_But Sansa was having none of it and her movements became increasingly slow, and she looked up at the girl trembling beneath her. "Beg."_

_Margaery started to buck her hips but Sansa straddled them, holding her in place which only made Margaery feel more anxious. She needed something,_  anything.  _"Please Sansa!" she begged, not caring anymore. Her whole body felt like it was on fire. Burning. Scorching. "Please just-"_

She woke up with a start, sweating and panting like a dog. But there was something no- someone laying next to her.

For a moment Margaery lay confused and shivering, her previous warmth gone. Sansa was gone, but she felt exposed. Raw and afraid. It was a feeling she normally resented and pushed down as far as it could go, but now she couldn't.

Someone stirred next to her and Margaery's situation came back in a crashing cold. She gasped as she saw the familiar mat of blonde hair, the pale skin. The heaving shoulders of disturbed sleep. Joffrey Baratheon. Her _loving_ boyfriend.

"What are you doing?" He mumbled, turning around.

Margery realized that in her sleep she had rolled closer to him, snuggling against his back. It made her feel slightly sick. But at the same time.. he was ok. It was just a dream. The flames would fade and she would go back to normality. The bitter sweet reality.

"Stop hogging the bed," he snapped luridly. He reached behind his back and pushed harshly against his shoulder. She rolled away and sighed heavily, the ache between her legs fading. She blushed. No. She was not having dreams about her best friend.

 

The next morning Margaery had to forcibly pull herself out of bed, making Joffrey curse. School was waiting like an ever present thunderstorm. She groaned; her legs felt stiff and her head was throbbing. Today was going to suck.

Sansa was leaning against her locker, talking to the bastard Ramsay Bolton. He was courteous at a glance, even attractive if you really squinted. Margaery was still unsure about him; he seemed too rough. He kissed like a rabid animal and his hands were calloused and rough, she hated seeing them on Sansa. Clawing.. pawing.. groping..

She shivered and shook the thought away, throwing on a smile before approaching Sansa who grinned.

Ramsay snorted and walked away for which Margaery was beyond grateful. "Morning, dove," Margaery said, locking her arm with Sansa's. She liked being close to the Stark; she was warm like the fire of her hair, and she was always so kind, caring.

SHUT UP!

"Good morning," Sansa smiled, shutting her locker and walking down the crowded hall. "How did your movie night go?"

Margaery groaned, thinking of the night before. She had neglected to mention the nature of the movie and had no intention of doing so now. It had scared her, to be sure, but she was used to that. _Lake Mungo._ It was supposed to be a documentary, and she had believed it until Joffrey had laughed and told her she was stupid for believing it.

"It was.. interesting. Although, I cant shake the feeling im being watched."

Sansa shrugged, brushing a strand of red hair away from her face. "Joffrey doesnt have a good taste in movies, does he?"

"Not at all. He has a taste for the paranormal," Margaery frowned. "That's why he needs to be cuddled at night. I think he's scared."

Sansa giggled. It was such a pretty sound.

 

Margaery awoke that night in a cold sweat. Her dream had been much more intense. She could still feel Sansa's hands.. moving along her body.. her legs..

"What the fuck?!"

The Tyrell shot up, nearly knocking heads with Joffrey who looked enraged. His eyes were blazing and he was breathing hard. "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

"Joff what are you doing?" Margaery asked calmly. But he was over her now, locking her in a cage of his arms.

"'Sansa, oh Sansa,'" he mocked, spit flying from his mouth. Margaery flinched, sinking into the bed sheets. "Why the fuck are you moaning her name?!"

Margaery opened her mouth to object but instead just whimpered. She was talking in her sleep.. "I-"

"WHY?!" Joffrey practically screamed, his voice pitching high. He sounded like a whining kid throwing a tantrum; perhaps he was.

"I just-" Margaery's mouth went dry. Her lips parted and she swallowed.

"You should be moaning my name," he hissed. But then he acted. He ground his hips into her's and she gasped, writhing. But it wasn't from heat. It wasn't like her dreams where she felt utter bliss and safety. This felt like torment. Like hell.

"Joff stop," She begged, grabbing his wrists and trying to heave him off of her.

"I think my little slut needs to be taught a lesson."

 

 

 


	2. Ours Is The Fury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rape/Non-con warning. Heavy angst and later fluff because Sansa is an awkward mess who just wants to help.

Time seemed to slow, rippling in Margaery's vision like a haze. She found herself frozen, unable to move, to think, to _breath._ But Joffrey didn't slow. He was a force within the silence, a gale wind that whipped and slashed at her exposed skin.

She didn't know how long it lasted, nor did she care. The sounds were all mixing together painfully loud; the banging of the headboard against the wall; Joffrey's breathless moans of ecstasy; Margaery's shrieks and muffled cries. One thing kept circulating in her head: just keep him happy.

So she did. She met every thrust and moaned his name when he asked, though she felt like gagging and crying. That was for later. But she continued to please him, tangling her fingers in his hair, shaking and trembling like a wind blown leaf. Her lips were quavering and her kisses sloppy, and every time she failed with this he would hit her.

That alone seemed to give him more pleasure than her movements. Just hitting her. _Biting_ her. Bruising her.

And then it was done. She couldn't quite feel it when he rolled off of her and fell into a deep sleep. She didn't recognize when the room went silent, even her own breaths lifeless and still. It was a queer silence, one that was full of tension and confusion.

But her legs were burning where he had bitten her, same as her neck and chest. Her crotch was throbbing, though it was dull and she was in shock. It hardly felt real. She felt that if she closed her eyes and simply slept she would wake up and it would have been a bitter dream, one that she would forget and drown out with smiles and laughs.

It wasn't.

It was real.

After a while she sat up, wincing. She was beyond exposed and the chilled air bit her skin like a thousand small leeches. She pulled the blankets over her chest, though it did little to ease her pounding heart. It soon sped up and her mind came to focus.

_I need to get out of here. Where? Loras? Elinor? ... Sansa?_

The thought of Sansa relaxed her somewhat, and she took that as a sign. Sansa. The bright colorful girl who was inexplicably beautiful. A girl that was accidentally charming and funny, who only wanted to help. And she had _warned_ Margaery after all. She had told her to not date Joffrey, that she would get hurt. That he was a monster.

She slipped out of the bed, shivering and cringing as she pulled on some clothes. They felt raw and course, though they were made of wool. Everything felt rough, not smooth like it usually did. She grabbed her school backpack, stuffing everything she could find in it. But she tried not to make any noise which only further burdened her. It would slow her down, stepping lightly and deliberately.

But finally she was out the door, walking to her car where it waited expectantly. When she turned the key in the ignition a tear fell from her cheek. Not from the pain but from the realization. That was her first time. She would never get that back. Not that she would ever want to, that was something she never wanted to relive.

As she drove she turned on the music, though it only made her skin prickle. Every noise was too loud, too shrill and too sudden. It was overwhelming, the street lights blinding and the honking of cars unbearable. She blocked it out, focusing on the street. Just a little further..

Where as Margaery opted to move in with Joffrey to escape her pushy family (though it was mainly because she was sick of Renly and Loras late at night), Sansa was still living with her family, large as it was. It was a big house too, set aside and off on a gravel drive. No gate barred it but the lights were on. Would Sansa even be awake?

She thought to call but her fingers felt numb and they shook. Finally she pressed call, lips parted as she pulled onto the private road, watching the trees lazily drift by. It was dark, nearly pitch, and far off an owl cooed.

"Marg?" Sansa asked, fighting off a yawn. "Its late. Is something wrong?"

Margaery was silent for a long moment. "I'm almost at your house. I.. I need to t-talk to you," her voice betrayed her, breaking and cracking like shattered ice.

Sansa was attentive immediately. "Hey are you ok? Marg whats wrong? Did something happen? Right sorry, I'm up ok? Ill be waiting."

Margery nodded, though it was slow. She felt tired. So damn tired. She wanted to curl into a ball and just sleep, forever. That would be pleasant. Maybe she could finally continue her dream, though now it seemed almost cursed, taboo.

 

As she walked up the steps to the house, Margaery noticed that only one car was in the driveway. It was Sansa's, the one she and Robb took turns using. It was bright and nearly blinded her but it was a welcome sight.

She didn't even have to open the door because Sansa was there. Her eyes were wide, all remnants of sleep washed away and replaced with sheer concern. "Marg?" she asked, pinching her brows.

Margaery said nothing, stepping into the warmth of the Stark house. It smelled faintly of pine and sage, but it was nice. Comforting. Her favorite smell, she decided.

"Oh my gods whats on your neck? That looks like it hurts!" Sansa reached out but Margaery flinched away, biting her lip. She hadn't even thought about the marks showing up past her hoodie. Had he really bitten that far?

"Hey its ok," Sansa said softly, this time reaching out slowly and gently resting her hand on the older girl's shoulder. "You dont have to talk if you dont want to.. but.. um.. here I'll get something for those. Sit down ok?"

Margaery nodded, shrugging off her backpack and crashing on the couch. She didnt care that no one else was home. It felt better that way. Catelyn and Ned were probably having a date night (Sansa had told her about those). And Bran and Rickon spent more time with the Reeds than they did at home, and Robb and Jon could be gods knew where.

Just then, as Sansa rummaged around in the kitchen, something poked her leg. She jumped and saw the familiar face of Nymeria. She rubbed against the girl's leg and made her sigh, absently petting the top of the wolf-dog's head.

Shaggydog, Grey Wind and Ghost were all kept outside, though Ghost liked to dig and usually got out to roam the small grove of trees around the house. Summer was the only other one inside, and she guessed that he was asleep somewhere else.

Finally Sansa returned carrying a soft cloth soaked in water and a few bandages. Was she bleeding? She reached up and touched her neck, but her fingers came away bloody.

"Here," Sansa said, carefully dabbing the cloth against Margaery's neck. The Tyrell's breath hitched, but she appreciated Sansa's silence. She didn't ask any questions or prod about what had happened. And soon enough she fell into each touch, ignoring the small pricks of pain where his teeth had sucked.

"Are there any.. more?" Sansa asked carefully, looking up at Margaery with big doe eyes. They shone just like in her dreams and made her stomach knot. Gods this was all her fault, Margaery just had to dream about Sansa all people. Her hands.. her lips..

But she nodded, slowly lifting up her shirt, wearing only a bra. She didnt feel exposed in front of Sansa who had seen her shirtless plenty of times before. The Stark sucked in a breath before setting to work. The small red crescents and even a few bruises crisscrossed up her tummy and to her breasts, but if there were any there she decided to ignore them.

When the work was done Sansa set the cloth and bandages aside, sitting beside Margaery and glancing at her, not out of curiosity but worry. She knew she had to talk about what happened, but what could she say? She bit her lip.

"Did- did Joffrey do something?" She asked slowly.

Margaery could only nod. She felt her throat go raw and her heart start to beat. Tears pricked in the corners of her eyes. No. She was not going to cry. Not in front of Sansa. Not now.. please gods no.. not now..

She couldn't stop the tears.

They ran down her cheeks like silver ropes and made her hiccup and her breath hitch. Sansa was there instantly, pulling the brunette into her arms and holding her tight. She started stroking Margaery's back, running her fingers through her hair.

Margaery melted into her friend, clutching Sansa's shirt as if her life depended on it. She buried her head in the crook of Sansa's neck, relishing how warm and safe the act made her feel. Sansa was so warm, so kind. So gentle. She was everything Joffrey was not. Why had it taken her this long to see it?

"Youre ok," Sansa whispered soothingly. "He cant hurt you. Youre ok.."

She repeated the words which only made Margaery's chest swell. She was never this weak, this pathetic.

"I'll protect you," The last words came gingerly, as if tentative. But they caused Margaery to look up at the red head who only smiled sadly, brushing away a few strands of stray hair from the Tyrell's tear stained face. "I wont let him touch you."

That was Margaery's line. What she had always told her friend to make her feel better. How the tables had turned.

"T- thank you," Margaery mumbled. She was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to curl up in Sansa's arms and fall asleep.

"We can talk about it in the morning, if you like, " Sansa broke the silence. "Or later. Or never. Whatever you are comfortable with. You look tired though. Here."

Sansa stood, interlocking her finger's with Margaery's and making the older girl shiver. "You can sleep with me if you like."

Margaery nodded gratefully. They had spent the night together a few times before, but that had been before the dreams- nightmares. Before this. Before Margaery moaned Sansa's name in her sleep, unable to contain herself.

Sansa's bedroom was small but cozy, warm. It smelled so much like Sansa, the same pine but lavender as well. It only made her feel more at ease, the night's trauma fading along with her shivers. She sat down on the bed before collapsing into the covers, glancing at Sansa who only nodded, going to turn out the light before returning, slipping under the sheets with Margaery's back to her.

Just when Margaery thought Sansa had fallen asleep and fear tinged her gut, the red head wrapped an arm around the Tyrell's waist, pulling them close and wrapping her body protectively around the smaller girl. "Just relax," she whispered, her breaths calm and oddly soothing. "I wont leave you."


	3. Growing Strong

Margaery awoke slowly, luridly dreary. The world swam and her body ached, only allowing her to lapse into sleep once more. Waking up seemed like a mistake, especially since she had all the warmth she would ever need right here..

She blinked a couple times. A few silky rays of sun dripped in from behind the curtains at the window, and she found herself in a foreign room. Though someone was still sleeping near her, so she must still be with Joffrey.. right?

After rolling a bit to get a good look at who she was next to, her heart stopped. Sansa.

Her eyes fluttered peacefully in sleep and she was breathing evenly. Lady had curled near the foot of the bed and Margaery could hear her soft huffs. But if Sansa was here..

The night came thundering back to her, crashing over the stillness forcefully and making her eyes water. Joffrey. She could still feel his rough hands, imagine them groping her body. She shivered and trembled, trying to banish the thoughts. But like always, they stayed. They remained and she knew they would torment her for years to come.

All the sudden Sansa's warmth seemed too hot but the room too cold. The sun was too bright and the breathing of Lady too much. She wriggled but felt an arm around her waist and started to panic. Too much, too much.. too much..

Before she knew it she was crying. She was supposed to be strong, everyone always said she was. Like a rose she was beautiful and a pleasure to the eyes, but she had thorns. Where had her thorns gone? And besides that, her beauty seemed to wane. All that was left was someone dirty and useless. Her grandmother always said beauty was a woman's greatest weapon, but it hadnt been. It had been her greatest weakness.

"Marg?" Sansa asked worridly, sitting up before pulling Margaery into a hug. She was practically sitting on her friends lap now, though it was comfortable. She wrapped her arms around Sansa's back and sobbed into her shirt, feeling the comforting strokes of Sansa's hands up her back and through her hair. "Its ok Marg," she whispered softly, lightly massaging her shoulderrs.

But it wasnt ok. None of it was. Joffrey was probably awake right now, wondering where she was. Would he show up, screaming and banging on the door? Would he demand her back like an owner with a lost dog? She thought so, he loved his property.

"Shhh. Calm down," Sansa said, hugging Margaery tighter. But she couldnt. She couldnt stop the tears, the horrible wretched tears. She was weak, so horribly horribly weak. Pathetic. Craven. "Deep breaths, please Marg."

So Margaery tried, though little good it did. Her breaths betrayed her and make her choke and hiccup, her vision too blurry to see anything. She felt like a child, a baby bawling for no reason. She let it happen, she made the mistake. She had to speak in her sleep, to date Joffrey, to lead him on and pleasure him. It truly was her fault which only brought another wave of tears.

After a minute Sansa pulled away slightly causing Margaery to whimper and try to reach for her again. "Relax," Sansa said, though her voice shook slightly. She was defiantly out of her comfort zone.

Suddenly Margaery felt fingers on her cheeks, wiping the tears away, pushing her hair behind her ears. She leaned into the touch like a cat, whimpering and trembling. But Sansa was so gentle, so kind and loving that for once she felt safe. Eventually she calmed, slumping into Sansa and closing her eyes for a few moments.

Sansa remained silent, though she didnt leave. Even after her mother called for her downstairs, asking who the backpack's was. She ignored it all, and when Robb came in grumbling sleepily, telling her to come downstairs he left just as quickly, seeing Margaery in tears.

"There's my girl," Sansa said, smiling softly at Margaery and running her hand down her hair, smoothing it out where tangles of sleep had been gnarled. The touches were calm and warm, like Sansa always was, and Margaery's chest swelled with admiration. Sansa was perfect, truly. But she was Ramsay's, as much as Margaery was Joffrey's. And yet.. why did she want him gone? Her dreams meant nothing surly, just some misplaced luck and a deluded exhaustion.

"Sorry," Margaery mumbled, laughing a little. Her throat was raw and her head was pounding but it was oddly vivid, a good kind. She didn't feel like a wooden doll without blood in her body anymore, like she had been last night. She was real, Sansa was real. "I'm a mess arnt I?"

"Marg, even if you _tried_ to be a mess, you would still be perfect." The words made Margaery blush which she resented. Friends complimented friends all the time. But she remembered her dreams, the moaning, the begging as if she was a small girl asking for a candy. Maybe she was, Sansa was all the sweetness she needed.

Margaery giggled. But her smile died as she looked away. Her body was aching, mainly between her legs and down her thighs. It was a throb and a sting, slight in some places and rushing in others. She squirmed and shifted, trying to get comfortable. How was she going to sit down? How was she going to move around school? Wait.. SCHOOL!

"Sans!" She said, finding her voice. "We have to go!"

She looked at the clock but it was way past time they should have been there already. "Dont worry," Sansa said. "I called us in. Besides, I think a straight A student can miss a day. You deserve it, and I think it'll help," she pursed her lips. "And Joffrey is there." Her last words were soft and guarded, evidently hesitant.

Margaery stilled. But it wasn't his fault was it? He was just being protective, maybe jealous but boyfriends were allowed to do that, right? A voice in the back of her head was screaming at her but she barley heard it. It kept saying something far off, that it wasn't her fault, that it was his. She couldn't control her heart. But how could it be his fault when her heart wasn't in love? She couldn't be. No way..

"Yeah.. he is." She replied.

Sansa bit her lip. "Do you want to talk about it?"

She started running her hand up Margaery's arm making the Tyrell shiver and sigh. "I just.. I was having.. dreams," she chose her words carefully. She knew Sansa would drop it if she asked her to, just because she didn't want to hurt her. But at the same time.. a small part of her _wanted_ to talk about it, even what the dreams entailed. Why was her heart beating so madly?

"Dreams?" Sansa repeated, confused.

"Yeah. Joffrey got mad.. he said I was mumbling in my sleep. And he.." her breath hitched. But Sansa kept stroking her arm, scooting a little closer so she looked down on Margaery. "And he raped me."

The words seemed so final, so forced. A silence hung in the air, but Margaery was starting to think, _really_ think. If Joffrey had been abusive to Sansa, she wasn't the only victim. And Sansa wasn't to blame, so neither was she? She didnt really believe it but went with it, not because she wanted pity but because she wanted to see how the words tasted, if she could live with them.

"Im so sorry," Sansa said, pulling her into a tight embrace. "I am so so sorry. I swear that bastard.. Gods he is horrible. I hate him."

"Me too," Margaery replied softly, sensing the pent up rage in her friend. Of course Sansa knew he was a bastard and a spiteful asshole. But Margaery had turned a blind eye to that, and now look where she was. Her stomach stirred restlessly and it made her think of something else.

"Sans.." she whispered wordily, pulling away. "I need to see someone, a doctor. I need to make sure.."

"Its ok. We can do that later. Lets focus on right now ok?" Sansa asked, lightly kissing Margaery's forehead and making the Tyrell shiver and flush.

"Ok."

"I think my family will let you stay for a couple days, if you need? I know you could probably go back home, actually why didn't you last night?" Sansa looked curious but also worried.

Margaery bit her lip. It was true her home in Highgarden was farther but it seemed logical to go there. Her brother's boyfriend was Joffrey's uncle for crying out loud! He could do something couldn't he? But she hadn't. She had come to her friend. The friend she had those dreams about.. and wanted to kiss and hold.. DAMN IT.

"I just.." she trailed off, glancing at Sansa and looking away again. Gods how could she deny it? She had always pined after Sansa, always blushed at her terrible jokes, laughed with her and cried with her. It all seemed normal then, except for the butterflies in her chest. She assumed in part it was admiration, and another jealousy. But it made sense now. She was just denying it because in the end it could cost them their friendship, and she wasn't sure how she would survive that. "The dreams.. I-"

Just then someone knocked on the door and Margaery jumped, exhaling as it opened. "Hello girls," Cat said, unaware of the situation. "You alright Margaery?"

The Tyrell could only nod.

"Well, breakfast is ready. And if your going to stay home at least be productive. Sansa, mind walking the dogs at least?"

"Sure!" Sansa chirped and the mood and the room lifted slightly.

Catelyn left and Sansa glanced wearily to her friend. "What were you saying?"

"Nothing," Margaery muttered. Sansa frowned but didn't push it.

Margaery needed to think, contemplate. She could just tell Sansa she was.. she was- what? She was what?

_In love with my best friend._


	4. Family Duty Honor

Catelyn had to leave for work and Ned, being the awkward father that he was, decided to take Jon and Robb out on a hike. (They had returned late at night, though no one knew where they went or why.)

Margaery was grateful for it just being her and Sansa, and the dogs of course. But she was also nervous, her body on alert, sensative to the lightest of touches. Breakfast was a warm dose of pancakes but she didnt have much of a hunger. She felt stiff, like a statue. Every bone in her body felt brittle, like an unsturdy twig ready to snap under the weight of a cinder block. Her stomach knotted as she forced food down, hoping it would ease her.

Sansa was on the phone with the doctor when Margaery's own phone buzzed. She was sprawled on the couch, playing with the sparse thread on the end of the frayed blanket. Sansa's chatter seemed quiet and soft, the walls shushing it. It only made Margaery feel more alone.

She looked at her phone screen and her heart sank. Joffrey.

_Where are you?_

The message seemed innocent enough, casual even. But it sent Margaery into a downward spiral of panic. How could she stay away from him? He was her boyfriend by all the gods! And yet.. she didnt want that. A little part of her always knew it, but truth be told, she had wanted to be closer with Loras, and by consequence, Renly. What better way than dating his nephew? It sounded backwards and something she was never like to admit, but it was true to an extent. 

How wrong she was.

But Sansa.. she shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. Last night had been the first time in a good long while that she had not drempt of the Stark girl, and she didnt know if she was thankful or not. Her dreams were an escape, a place she didnt have to be ashamed of those desires. If only it was reality. But that hope was what had gotten her raped, wasnt it?

Margaery ignored the text, wrapping the blanket around her shoulders even tighter. She shivered despite it being quite warm outside and inside. The sun was shining, as if to mock her pain, but it twinkled through the glass.

"We have to be there is one hour," Sansa came into the room and said, looking tired and concerned. She sat down next to Margaery where the Tyrell prompty rested her head against the other girl's shoulder. It was comfortable and warm, and she wanted nothing more than to loose herself in that warmth. "That ok?" Sansa asked, lightly stroking Margaery's hair.

Margaery nodded and closed her eyes. She knew she wouldnt sleep, not for a long time, but this was nice. She never wanted to move. But she couldnt help but sigh, for what she didnt know. Sansa's love? What did she even want? It was confusing and made her head hurt.

 

The appointment at the doctor's was sour and bitter, an experience she would prefer to forget. Everyone gave her queer looks when she shied away from them and refused to speak. Her lips felt like they were glued shut, and the stale air didnt help. It made for a discomfort that she resented. Thankfully Sansa stayed with her until they did a simple test which made her feel all sorts of exposed.

The nurses asked questions, asked if she wanted help, rehab, and she said possibly. It was all she could say, and she wasnt about to regret it later. So she took the cards they gave her, listlessly looking at the numbers inscribed in dull blue and red. The color of bruises.

 

Sansa took her back to the Stark home, but even the scent of sage and pine was unnerving. Everything seemed to spin or blur, falling into a mix of delerium and confusion. Her head hurt and her body ached, something she wasnt sure was mental or truthfully physical. She felt stupid for being so weak, so not like Margaery. But at the moment she couldnt bring herself to care.

"You ok?" Sansa asked, sitting her down in front of the tv. She stroked the Tyrell's arm, almost mindlessly.

Margaery nodded which made her feel all sorts of hungover. She winced and Sansa seemed to understand. She brought a small cup of medicine out and it tasted bitter and sweet. Margaery relaxed, shivering as if she had a fever. She hoped she didnt. She couldnt bear to get Sansa sick.

"So," Sansa said, sounding nearly cheery. "I figured we could watch a movie or something. I'll walk the dogs later, but right now lets do something to get your mind off of things, ok?"

Margaery sighed greatfully, snuggling up against Sansa. Gods she was so warm. She wrapped an arm around the shorter girl, pulling her close and lightly kissing her temple. It was chaste but made Margaery's chest flutter.

"The Hunger Games?" Sansa asked, smirking a little. She knew it was Margaery's favorite.

She nodded, smiling a little. Gods Sansa was so sweet sometimes. But she thought it was a different now that she had.. realized.

The movie played and she did her best to pay attention, reciting the lines within her head. But her mind kept wandering, straying to last night.. to Joffrey..

"Marg whats wrong?" Sansa asked, pausing the movie. She looked down at her friend with worry in her eyes and it took Margaery a moment to feel the stiffness of her joints. And her skin was icy to the touch. What was wrong with her?

Margaery shook her head.

Sansa bit her lip. "I understand you dont want to talk, but maybe it will help? I- it huts me to see you like this you know.. I want to make you smile again, but I dont know how," she sounded distressed. "I dont want to push you because that wont help but.."

"But you feel helpless," Margaery finished.

Sansa nodded.

Margaery took a deep breath. "Sans.. those dreams.. do you know why he was so mad at me?"

The Stark looked momentarily confused. "I dont know."

It was now or never, but the words caught in her throat. How would Sansa react? At this point Margaery didnt even know what she wanted, it was all a jumbled mess inside her head. If only.. if only she knew what the future held.

"They were.. they were.." she couldnt bring herself to say it.

Sansa sensed the importance however, gently tilting Margaery's chin so she had to look at her. "Its ok, its just me." _Ill protect you._

"They were about you," she finished, though she felt her eyes start to sting. Gods what had she done? What was Sansa thinking? The Stark's face was impassive for a long moment before she grimaced. 

"Does he still hate me that much?" then she knitted her brows and exhaled. "I dont understand.."

"Me neither," Margaery whispered, thinking to herself.

Before she could react Sansa's hands were around her torso, pressing their bodies together. The younger buriedw her face in Margaery's neck, breathing shallowly. Margaery's breath hitched as she tentatively hugged her friend, not understanding the mood in the room.

Margaery felt something soft against her collarbone and it took her a minute to relize that it was Sansa's lips. She pressed a gentle, chaste kiss over a red bite along Margaery's neck, nuzzling into her like a kitten. Then she did it again, and again.

Margaery's head swam and she felt dizzy, but she tangled her hands in Sansa's hair, as if to hold her their. At first she thought to pull her away, but damn it all it felt so _good,_ so _perfect._ She whimpered when Sansa pulled away, looking at her with a relaxed gaze.

"You are perfect." Sansa murmured, resting their foreheads together. Margaery felt a great many things then, confusion, anxiety, warmth, comfort and also fear. But they all seemed to clamor for her attention, tugging at her thoughts and altering them to something she could not read. "Whatever your dreams were.. they scared you. But.." she bit her lip. "Is there anything I can do to ease that fear? Anything at all?"

Margaery swallowed. _Yes. Just hold me, tell me it will be alright. Kiss me and never let go._

She didnt say any of that though, and instead settled for a slight nod. Their eyes met and her heart slowed, skipping a beat. Her ribcage felt too small, too tight around her heart, her lungs, squeezing the breath from her. She wanted so many things.. but what could she have? She didnt dare ask.

Before Sansa could ask there was a pounding at the door.

Margaery jumped, whimpering at the sudden noise. Sansa looked on worriingly before standing and peaking out the door. She sucked in a husky breath, clenching her jaw tight. When the door opened the scent was almost toxic, so recognizable. Joffrey.

He smelled like honey and tar and all things bitter, it made her want to retch, to run or to bury her head and never look up. But she stayed still, stiff, waiting, watching. She knew Joff couldnt see her from where she was laying, but if he looked inside..

She didnt dwell on it and instead waited for Sansa to speak.

"Joffrey, what are you doing here?" she asked tentatively.

She heard Joffrey hiss. "Is Margaery here? She isn't responding to my texts, that bitch. Have you seen her?"

Sansa frowned before growling like Lady, low and protective. "Even if I had there would be a fat chance I would tell you. Because unlike you, I actually care about her, and think of her more than a puppet. Now get away from me."

Joffrey made a noise of protest and Margaery saw his hands on Sansa's shoulders, starting to push her back.

"HEY!" someone yelled.

It was Robb. Their car had pulled up to the curb, and Robb looked dazed but angry. No. Beyond angry. Enraged. His eyes blazed as he stalked towards the Baratheon, and Margaery swore she heard the dogs howling outside.

"Get away from my sister," he snapped.

Joffrey looked afraid for a moment before he curled his lips back. "Oh? Is it not my right to see my beloved? I know she is here. That damn dyke in Highgarden said nothing about her there. Where else would she go? Just let me talk to her, and I'll be gone."

Jon was the next one to get out of the car, following by Ned who looked slightly worried. He was somewhat close with Joffrey's father, and a while ago they had been brothers. But Sansa's relationship with Joffrey had caused them to drift apart. But he still loved his daughter.

"Joff," he said slowly. "Please leave. Some other.. more appropriate time would be better for you to talk to Margaery. She is in no state to see you, I regret."

Joffrey was fuming now. "Really? My mother will here about this! All of this!" he swept his hands in a wide arc. "And dont think I found find that Tyrell bitch and have my dog take care of her. It will only be worse the longer I wait."

"And if it is forever?" Jon countered. "The seventh hell better be yawning open for you, expect that. Now leave."

Margaery looked out the window and saw Ghost at his ankles, having dug under the fence again. His red eyes burned like hot coals and he snarled, his teeth bared like small shards of glass. Margaery shivered but also was overcome by a wave of fear. How she desperately wanted to run out the back, to race to Highgarden and forget this all. But she couldn't move, and even if she did, she had a feeling the dogs would stop her.

Lady and Summer were watching from the foot of the stairs, looking as agitated as the humans outside. Beyond the glass door out the back she could see Grey Wind and Nymeria growling too, tails high and stiff like wood. It made her feel safe, in a strange way.

"Joff," Sansa said, though her voice was lacking any warmth. "Take your own advice and hear me roar because I swear if you ever touch her again, you'll have more than seven hells to pay."

And she turned on her heal, shoving him out.

_He will be back, like he promised. And I have no wolf to protect me from him._


	5. Fire and Blood

To say Sansa was fuming would be an understatement. She was _pissed._ Joffrey had the audacity to show up to _her_ house, screaming and bawling like a child for _her_ friend. She felt like snarling and biting him until he bled.

When he left though, she deflated a fraction. She hadn't realized she was shaking. But she had meant what she said. He would _never_ touch Margaery again, and if he did, he would have hells to pay. Gods, just thinking of his rough hands on her body, scratching, scraping.. bruising.. she hissed between her teeth before looking to Robb who was confused by just as angry.

He walked inside, followed closely by Jon, Ghost having run off again. She watched him go, a blur of white. If only Joffrey would disappear as quick. He took his sweet time driving away, pretending to be stuck, watching her all the while. Even his hair looked to be a main, like a lion's. Though he lacked the true teeth, or claws. That was all his dumb mother.

"What happened?" Robb asked, stepping inside and hanging his coat up.

Sansa glanced back at the couch but didn't see Margaery. A bolt of fear shot up her chest, had she left? She doubted it, seeing as she hadnt heard the backdoor open and that was the only way she could have gotten out.

"Isnt that self explanatory? Joffrey was looking for his.. girlfiend and knew she was here. He acted like he usually does; idiot and impulsive. What more do you want to know?" Jon quipped, though he stilled himself when Ned trod past him, looking turse.

Why did he always look so dull? Lifeless even? Not even his eyes seemed to want to raise beyond a glower. He rested his large hands against the table, sucking his teeth. He didnt look up, but curled his knuckles causing them to pop. Finally he spoke. "Sansa, what did he do to her? I know it isnt your place, but I have to know. I wont defend someone on the whim of.. well.. a nameless, shapeless misdeed."

Sansa nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. She didnt want to betray Margaery but then again, it would come out eventually, right? She sighed heavily. "H- he.. he forced himself on her."

She chose her words carefully, and left the part out about the dreams. What did they matter anyway? Who cares who they were about, or what they entailed? People couldnt control their dreams anymore than she could control Joffrey.

 

 

Margaery was sitting on her bed when she came in, mindlessly swinging her legs and pecking at her phone. Sansa was silent as she sat down next to her friend, trying to ease herself into whatever trance the Tyrell was in.

"Are you ok?" Sansa asked carefully, noting how not even Margaery's eyes lifted from the screen.

"Im fine." Margaery replied evenly, monotone and dry. She didnt even seem to be _breathing._ Sansa felt a sinking feeling in her gut, one she couldnt quite shake. Margaery was never like this, always chirping or laughing, smiling or smirking. It was simply her, her Margaery.

"Youre not fine, evidently," Sansa said, reaching out and trying to grab her friend's hand. But Margaery jerked away harshly, turning around so she was facing away from her.

"I dont want to talk about it, ok? Havnt I done that already?"

Sansa bit her lip. She sounded angry, very angry. It made her uncomfortable, even afraid. Margaery was never angry, except when she was defending her friends, or her brother, or her family. She was composed and eloquent, lake a lady. Cunning, some could say, but never snappy. Never cruel. "Margaery, I know you dont want to talk but- my dad, he thinks that-"

"I dont give a damn what he thinks," Margaery hissed, whirling on Sansa, her eyes wide and wild. But tears brimmed in them, like a thousand silvery ropes glimmering in the fading light. She looked like a caged animal set free. "I heard what you said. All of it. What made you think I would want you to tell him?!"

Sansa shrunk back, sucking in a deep breath. "Im sorry-"

"I should go," Margaery spat, turning to stand.

Sansa stopped her, wrapping her arms around Margaery's waist. It was haste and impulsive but she needed to do _something._ And she felt if she didnt, she would lose her friend. That she would run and never hug her again, laugh with her, cry with her. She couldnt bear that.

"Sansa let go," Margaery had bared her teeth.

 _Thats not you,_ Sansa thought numbly.

"No."

"SANSA!"

But she held her ground, even when Margaery tugged at her arms, nails digging in as if she was going to rip away. It would be easy too, she was stronger than Sansa. Not by much but enough. But Sansa didnt feel Margaery slipping away, didnt hear her run down the stairs, slamming the door and driving off. She hadnt let her go.

But she felt her _shaking,_ as if she was going to collapse. Sansa looked up and saw Margaery trying to bite back a bout of tears, fighting an internal war with swords of words and shields of thought. She could tell it was bloody, and all logic was losing.

Finally she did collapse, sobbing. Her whole body shook and she screamed, trying to curl in on herself, trying to seem smaller. Sansa just gaped as her friend fell to the floor, whimpering like a babe and holding herself like a mother. It made her look _alone._

Sansa didnt say anything but just bent down and pulled Margaery into her arms, stroking her back. She could feel the Tyrell tense before melting into her, clutching onto her shirt like it was a lifeline. Her tears were rough and violent, undoubtedly going to result in a headache. But it was nothing compared to how she was shrieking, muffling her shouts in Sansa's shoulder.

For a moment it felt as if time slowed, everything becoming languid and lethargic. All she could see was Margaery. Her Margaery. And she was crying. Her body started to panic; _What should I do? How can I help her? What does she need?_

Sansa steadied herself while exhaling, pulling Margaery into her lap and just being _there._ "I got you," Sansa whispered, running her hands up and down Margaery back, trying to calm her. To make it ok. But it couldnt be. Not now. Not ever. The world was shattering into a dark, lifeless vortex, and they were trapped in the center. "I wont let him hurt you. I promise."

Margaery sniffled before lifting her head. Sansa's chest started to contract painfully; she had rarely seen Margaery cry, and of late that was all she could seem to remember. "I'm done with promises," she said, though her voice was surprisingly steady.

She slowly disentangled herself from Sansa, standing on shaking legs. Sansa could only watch as her friend left the room, looking back once before shutting the door.

 _No. No. Please! Im sorry!_ Sansa wanted to shout, feeling the words acrid on her lips. But they didn't come, and she was left in silence.


	6. As High As Honor

The day was cold. Not like the steady autumn days fading to winter, but frigid. Not a single drop of sun glittered on the street, making Sansa feel all the more dreary. Margaery hadn't called. She hadn't done anything in fact; she hadn't responded to Sansa's texts, her calls, her voicemails. It worried the Stark but she knew how her friend was: stubborn and persistent.

School was an unwelcome sight that made her clench her fists. Inside though, Margaery seemed normal. She was laughing with Ygritte and Dany like nothing had happened, as if the word had not crumbled and shook just the night before. Sansa narrowed her eyes as she approached, but forced a smile for casualties sake.

"Oh hello Sansa!" Margaery chirped. Only her eyes held the slightest trepidation, and even then it was small, like a fleck of gold in a granite slab.

"Hey," Sansa said carefully, causing Margaery to frown. Tension was thick and suffocating, and Sansa was thankful when the bell rang and they had to go to their classes. At least then she could work and take her mind off the blaring alarm that her friend had caused.

Her worry was no so easily taken aside however, fighting for control. She glanced at Margaery occasionally, but the brunette never seemed to notice. It was unnerving how she was so calm, not a shudder or ripple of paranoia hanging around her. She was tranquil and steady, like a boat tethered to a dock. What was on the dock though, Sansa couldn't guess.

That was until lunch. Joffrey sat at their table, wrapping an arm around Margaery. And she _laughed._ It was roped in a morose undertone, one so thin Sansa could barley grasp it. But she had known Margaery long enough to sense when she was troubled. She had to grind her teeth to keep from lashing out at Joffrey with her nails, hoping to snag on an eye or two. That thought scared her but also gave her some recompense for the state she was in.

Finally, as school ended, Sansa grabbed Margaery's arm, earning a dismayed yelp. She led her friend around to the back of the school where the bike cage was. Only a few other students came around here, and they were on their way as soon as they stumbled down there. They were alone, and the seemed to unnerve them both.

"Margaery," Sansa said. She rarley used her friend's full name, and it caused the Tyrell to flinch. "Whats going on?"

Margaery shook out her hair, cocking her head and smiling as wryly as she could manage. Though her movements were heavily forced and unnatural, played for a hasty attempt at being casual. "Nothing darling. Lets just forget about last night alright? I was overreacting, you know I have a knack of doing that."

Sansa pinched her brows. "Marg that wasn't an overreaction. You were afraid! I'm worried about you-"

"Dont be," Margaery smiled softly. "I'm fine. I swear. When have I ever lied to you?"

 _Never, but there is always a first._ Sansa didnt say that though, and instead had a small battle in her mind about dropping the whole issue and moving on. Isn't that what Margaery wanted? But what kind of friend would she be if she did that? The Tyrell was hurting, whether or not she wanted to admit it being another problem entirely.

Sansa sighed. "I wont push you, but, please. If anything's wrong, promise me you will get help. Please?"

Margaery faltered for a moment, sucking her teeth and glancing behind her. "Sansa I'm fine. Please don't worry."

"You didn't answer me."

She looked down at her feet, avoiding eye contact. Sansa felt slightly uneased, trying her best to not be pushy, but also knowing she didn't have much choice. When Margaery stayed silent Sansa finally relented. "Come over to my place tonight?"

The offer hung in the air for a hot second before Margaery's smile returned and she nodded. "Of course!" She eyed her friend for a moment. "But I promise I will get help if I need it." And with that she left, smiling as if the world was as bright as a star and the wind was sweet.

_She's lying. Or maybe she believes she truly doesn't need help._

 

***

That night Sansa and Margaery waited up, giggling like little girls and watching movies as corny and cheesy as it gets. It was a fun time killer, but Sansa never fully relaxed. She felt Margaery shift every few minutes, laying in odd ways and trying not to press on the bruises that marked her skin, clothed by too many layers of fabric to make any notice. But Sansa knew. For that fact she didn't know if liked it or not. It only hurt her more.

Finally, when it came time to sleep and the entire Stark family had bedded down, Margaery looked uncomfortable. She glanced at Sansa during the credits of the movie, twiddling her fingers absently. Sansa knew what she was thinking but couldn't bring herself to see it.

"You can sleep in my bed," Sansa said, yawning. She knew tomorrow would be hell for them both, getting up early for school. Catelyn had come in earlier, telling them to go to bed. They had just put in headphones, tucked themselves under the blankets and turned the lights out.

Margaery frowned. "You don't have to-"

"I insist."

The Tyrell didn't object after that. But when all the lights went out and they were bathed in darkness, Sansa could hear her friend's breath hitch every so often. She did her best to ignore it, knowing Margaery wanted space. But frankly, that was something she wasn't in the mood to give. Not now.

"Marg?" She whispered into the darkness.

After a few moments, Sansa thought her firned was asleep, Margaery stirred and sat up, looking down at the red head. "Hmm?"

Sansa sat up too, rubbing her eyes and exhaling. "Are you and Joffrey still together?"

Margaery huffed and fell back against the blankets. "Sans, I told you everything's fine. Can you please just drop it?" There was a bite to her voice, one not so subtly hidden. It stung but not as much as not knowing, and for that Sansa felt a surge of adrenaline.

"Are you and Joffrey still together?" She repeated firmly.

She saw Margaery clench her fists from her perch on the floor. The blankets around Sansa suddenly felt too hot and she stood up, sitting on the edge of the bed, relishing the draft of cool air from her cracked window.

"Yes."

Sansa stiffened. "Why? Margaery he hurt you, bad. Why would you want to date him still?"

"I told you," the Tyrell growled, "I was overreacting."

Something inside the Stark snapped and she sprung, caging Margaery to the bed with her arms and looking down at her. Her fiery red hair hung around them like a stage curtain, blocking out everything but each other, and the tension in which that held. "Do the marks on your skin support that?" Sansa demanded.

Margaery flinched, squirming slightly. "Sansa, stop."

"No," Sansa pressed. She could feel her strength waning, but she couldn't afford that. Not now. Not with everything on the vurge of coming out. Nothing made sense, and yet she needed it to. Just as much as she needed Joffrey to pay for what he did. "Please-"

"Stop," Margaery suddenly sobbed, her fingers locking around Sansa's arms, trying to heave the Stark off. There were tears in her eyes, and her breaths had become ragged. "Please stop!"

So Sansa did. She rolled off of her and Margaery pulled her knees to her chest, sucking in shaky breaths that sounded labored and strained. Sansa gasped, finding the feeling in her body again. She hasn't realized what she had been doing, not really anyway. She was being foolish, and stupid. She couldn't push Margaery, she was fragile right now.

"I- im sorry," Sansa murmured, reaching out.

Margaery jerked away, a few tears sliding down her cheeks like crystal beads. It wasn't hard to hear, to sense her distress and pain. Not all of it was physical, though Sansa didn't doubt that a fraction of it was. It made her feel worse.

_I shouldn't have done that. I should drop it. I need to leave her be. She wouldn't lie to me, right?_

"I should go," Margaery said, standing up with a wave of finality. 

"Wait!" Sansa said, panicking. Oh gods what had she done?

Words died in her throat as Margaery shut the door, so reminiscent of the night before. Sansa's heart ached and she felt tears in her eyes.

"

 

 


End file.
